How Could I Forget You?
by LinnThePigeon
Summary: Kurt and Sebastian have been together for 6 years. One day, Sebastian suddenly disappears, and no one can remember him, except Kurt. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Kurt and Sebastian have been together for 6 years, until the day Sebastian suddenly disappears and no one remember him, except for Kurt. He must go find Sebastian and get him back again.**

**A/N: This story is mainly based on the movie: The Forgotten. It's a thriller and it's about a mother who loses her son, but no one remembers the son. You can watch the trailer here: watch?v=CqjWuzPdHdo. It's a really good movie, it can be recommended ;) My version of the story is gonna be a little different from the film. Reviews and other responses are always appreciated, I hope you will enjoy, my writing isn't the best, but I'll improve later on ;)**

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

"Sebastian!?" There was a pause.

"I'm over here!" came the reply. It sounded so far away, yet like he could reach out into the dark and feel the person who answered him.

"Where?!" He can't see anything. It's so dark.

"Here!" came the reply once again. It sounded closer this time, yet further away again.

"I can't see you!" He can't see anything.

"Then open your eyes!"

"Please don't leave me!" He managed to scream before everything was suddenly white and bright. Very bright. He tried to open his eyes, but the brightness from the light outside, made him wince and close them again. He lied there with closed eyes. He felt weak. He couldn't even make himself open his eyes. But he knew he had to at some point. He managed to slide his hand across the soft sheets beneath him. Yup, it was still the same sheets and the same bed he had been used to lie on for a whole year. He had also been used to lie in exactly this bed for 6 years ago. It's actually his real bed, it's his childhood bed. But still, every day when he would wake up in this bed, he would slide his hand across it to feel, if he maybe this time, was back in what he felt like had become his real bed. The bed he actually felt home in. And then maybe, when he was guiding his hand further across the bed, he would feel a warm, breathing body beside him... But it never happened. He always woke up in the same bed, and never with another body beside him. He was used to having dreams. This dream specifically, he was used to have almost every night, so he never thought further of the dreams or even some nights, nightmares. Horrible nightmares.

He slowly sat up in the bed. It started to creak by his movements, something that he had also been used to for a year now. His 'real' bed hadn't been creaking, even though he had slept in it for 6 years, even with another person. It had been a really good bed. He sat on the edge of the bed for a while. A minute passed. 5 minutes passed. 20 minutes. Suddenly an hour had gone by, without a single movement. Slowly, he made himself stand from the creaking bed. He walked over to his wooden closet and opened it. He looked inside it for a while. He remembers once upon time when he was so busy about what he was wearing. From every clothing down to every accessory, had a meaning. He had special looks from what fitted his mood. When he was happy, he would wear bright colors, when he was sad, he would wear dark colors, when he was in a more neutral mood, he would go with...- Neutral colors. It still took him more than an hour per day to get finished with his outfits and his hair would probably take the longest time to fix. His hair also depended on his mood. It would be more spiky than usual when he was happy, more flat and not done so well when he was sad, and more high on his head when neutral, but still perfect. Now...- he would use 5 minutes... Never more. He did the same thing every morning. He looked inside his closet to look for some clothes, but he always ended up with a pair of either sweat pants, or just loose fitted jeans. A loose t-shirt, or when it was cold, a long sleeved shirt or a hoodie. A pair of socks and then he would trudge out into the bathroom, splash some water in his face and randomly run his hands through his hair, and he was good to go. Next step; breakfast. This was usually the worst part of the morning. He would have to face his dad.

He trudged up the stairs and into the living room. He found his dad seated at the table in the kitchen, a half eaten toast on his plate, a cup of hot steaming coffee and a newspaper in his hand. He sat with his back facing his son, but he could always here the lazy trudging of feat coming nearer. "Good morning, bud." Burt Hummel said lightly, like he had for the past year. His son had walked past him while he bid him good morning, the young man now standing by the coffee machine, pouring himself a large cup of coffee. He needed his daily coffee, or else he would be more useless than he already was. "Mornin' dad." He had scratched the "good" part in "good morning" a long time ago. He wouldn't act like it was a good morning when it never was anyway. He turned around to face his father, and he always seized to catch the small wince his dad's eyes made every morning when he looked at his son's condition. He tried to ignore it and just look anywhere else except his father's eyes. He leaned back against the counter and started to sip at his coffee. He knew his dad was watching him, but he tried to ignore it. He always hated when people was looking at him. He tried to concentrate on the slight burn on his tongue from the hot coffee, he closed his eyes and took another sip and swallowed... He already felt much better. But he couldn't ignore the eyes on him any longer. He opened his eyes and regretted it immediately. His father was looking pitying at him. His father pitied him. It was almost worse than disappointment or judgment. He quickly looked away again and tried not to cry. He knew he was far out now.

"Kurt. Buddy-" his father started, but he still couldn't make himself look at his dad. "Could you maybe sit down? Just for a few minutes. I just want to talk for a bit, ya' know, before I get to work. I feel like its ages ago since we've had some father and son time." Burt tried to catch his son's eyes, but Kurt refused to look into them again. He was afraid to see the pity in them. Burt waited a few seconds. He wouldn't push Kurt, but he just couldn't stand to see his own son in this condition anymore. Kurt needed to take baby steps, of course, but then he also needed to get some pushes now and then to get started. So Burt pushes, "Kurt? Please." Kurt looked carefully into his dad's eyes, and surprisingly he didn't find any pity in them anymore. Kurt decided after a while; that he would sit down to face his dad. Burt was right after all. It had been a long time since he and his dad had really talked. Kurt removed the mug from his face and took a step forward. He reached out towards the chair in front of him, and pulled it out from under the table. He then sat down carefully, still with the hot coffee cup buried in hands to keep his cold fingers warm. He looked up expectedly at his dad, waiting for what to come. "Son...-" Burt started, and Kurt looked harder at him and also slightly leaned more forward. "I think maybe it would do you good to see a psychologist."

**Short, short chapter, but it's still only the prologue! ;) Please review and let me know if I should continue or just if there's anything else you'd like me to know :)**

**\- chriscolferlove**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So here's the second chapter of my new story. Again, reviews and alerts are highly appreciated :3 I hope you will enjoy **

**Replies:**

**Linneagb: First of all, my name is actually Linnea xD Anyway, thank you for your review, and I'm glad that you like this even though this story isn't about Klaine. But honestly you won't see much of Sebastian in this one, it's mostly just Kurt. I was just in a Kurtbastian mood when I wrote the first chapter ;P I usually write Klaine though. And I don't mind you babbling, I always do that myself, I just think it's nice ^^ But I hope you will enjoy this chapter, and you will stick with me till the end of this story ;P**

**Chapter 2:**

_A psychologist!? _What was he thinking? How could he think that a _psychologist _could fix him!? That a psychologist could even help just a little bit!? _Nothing_ can ever fix him again. Nothing would ever really help. He had already decided a while ago that he would try to heal himself with time... Well... That hadn't gone so well, but he just needed more time! I mean, it's not like he can just cure himself after only _one_ year! All he wants is... To get him back. Is that too much to ask? Why did he even have to lose him in the first place?! It wasn't fair! Everybody gets to be happy, but not him! Finally he had found the love of his life, and then he can't get to keep him?! They were supposed to get married soon. In New York where they had a home together. Where they could be free together, and live without getting any nasty looks, they could hold hands down the street and they could kiss whenever they wanted to. And god he wanted to kiss him right now... Like he had just a year ago...

Kurt had been in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized that he was crying. The tears were rolling down his cheeks while he was staring out into space. His dad stood from the chair and walked over to Kurt. He kneeled next to the chair Kurt was sitting on. "Buddy. Why are you crying?" his dad asked him, but he almost didn't hear him, if it hadn't been for the hand on his arm shaking him gently. Kurt looked down into his dad's eyes. Burt's eyes were gentle and not sympathetic at all. There was also a bit of guilt in them, but Kurt's own eyes were too blurry for him to notice that. He broke down into his father's arms and started to cry harder. He finally spoke, but he didn't pay attention to what he was saying, "I just miss him so much." Burt hugged Kurt's fragile body tighter and whispered in his ear gently, "I know, bud... I know." They stayed like that on the kitchen floor for an hour.

"Kurt, buddy!? He's here!" Kurt lifted his head slowly from the scrapbook he had been half resting his head on and half looking in. He had his scrapbook lying on his desk; it was filled with pictures of him and his boyfriend. He would look at every single picture and study them like he had never seen them before. But he had. Everyday actually. When he didn't have anything to do, (which was almost all the time) he would dig his scrapbook out from under his bed, and just look at the pictures attached to the pages inside. It was like he was calmer with the book being under his bed. Then he knew that the person he once loved -still does- still was near him and his heart. Not long after the accident happened, he would lie in bed with the scrapbook under his pillow, but his dad always came in every night and removed it. He said that it wasn't good for Kurt's neck to lie on a pillow that was too high, and then he would just be in pain for days. So Kurt started to hide it under his bed. His dad had once found it lying under there, and told Kurt that it was for the better if he just took it, so that Kurt maybe would have a better chance for moving on. But Kurt wouldn't let it go. It was like... Like a drug to him. Something that is really hard to "just let go". His father had let it go when Kurt had begun crying just by the _thought _of him taking the book away from him.

Kurt stood from his desk chair and closed the scrapbook. He hid it under his bed again so that Burt wouldn't walk in and see it. His dad actually thought that he had gotten rid of the book. Kurt felt bad lying about it, but he just _couldn't _risk that his dad would take it away from him again. Kurt walked upstairs to find his father facing another man in the living room. Both men looked up at Kurt when they heard him enter the room. Kurt looked blankly at both of them, until his dad finally broke the awkward silence. "Kurt, this is Dr. Sam Evans," he said while walking over to Kurt and laying his hand on his son's shoulder, "your psychologist." Kurt looked sadly up at his father. They hadn't made any deal about doing this. Burt looked away, guilt visible in his eyes, and with a lump in his throat. He knew that he wasn't supposed to make such a big decision without Kurt's agreement, but as a father, he had to do what was best for his son. But still, the look of hurt coming from his son's eyes - which reminded him _so_ much of his wife's, and that didn't make the situation any better – still hurt him as well.

Dr. Evans stepped forward towards Kurt and stretched out his hand for him to shake. "Hello Kurt, it's nice to finally meet you," said Dr. Evans. Kurt just looked at the outstretched hand. Dr. Evans withdrew his hand with a polite smile; he didn't seem offended at all. He was probably used to it. _He must know about my condition_, Kurt thought. He couldn't help but feel a little offended by his dad, who obviously has told the doctor everything about Kurt. _At least he isn't an ugly, old man; _Kurt thought and looked closer at his new psychologist. He looked young, if not just a bit older than Kurt. He had blond hair, and really – like _really_ – big lips, and his skin was very pale, but it looked nice and smooth. Just like Kurt's. He was also wearing glasses.

Burt looked at his watch and his eyes suddenly became wide. "Buddy, I have to work now, but I'll be right outside in the garage if you need anything, okay?" Burt said facing his son, but Kurt didn't look at him, he looked down into the ground instead. Burt sighed sadly, and took Kurt by the shoulders, "Kurt. Look at me," he shook Kurt gently a couple of times, and Kurt had no choice but to just look up into his dad's sad eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, but I had to do it Kurt. With or without your permission. I just can't take to see you like this anymore. Will you promise me to at least give this a try? It might actually help to talk about it and just get it out. Will you promise me to give Dr. Evans a chance? I won't force you into anything, but... I think this is what you need." _What I need is my boyfriend,_ thought Kurt heartbroken. They hadn't lost eye contact since Burt had started to talk, and Kurt had to hold the tears back. Kurt didn't trust his voice at the moment, so he just nodded numbly. Burt started to smile with wet eyes, "you're sure? You don't have to Kurt," Burt told his son concerned. Kurt waited a moment until he trusted his voice to form words. "I know... I'll try... For you, dad," said Kurt with as much of a smile he could make without crying. Burt smiled wider and pulled Kurt's smaller body into his, in a bone crushing hug. When he let go again for Kurt to get some air, he told him, "I'm just outside in the garage if you need me," just in case. Kurt nodded and also managed to smile a bit wider at his dad. Burt looked a bit longer on his son to be sure that Kurt wasn't just bluffing and was going to die when Burt stepped outside the house, but he looked fine. Burt nodded to Sam – Dr. Sam Evans – and left the living room. When Kurt heard the front door close, his smile was gone.

* * *

"So, Kurt. You can just call me Doctor if you'd like. Or Sam, if that makes you more comfortable." Dr. Sam Evans – Sam – said sweetly to Kurt, while he sat down in the leather chair next to couch. Kurt still stood a few meters away. He wasn't really afraid of being too close to Sam; he just didn't really know what he was doing or what he was supposed to do. Maybe he was just afraid to actually let everything out – and then to a stranger? – after so long. He hadn't really _talked_ about it with anyone before, and now he just suddenly had to let _everything _out. He didn't even know how he felt about that. Would he feel vulnerable or would he feel like a weight being lifted off of his shoulder and chest? All he knew right now was that he had to try, he had promised his dad, and he wouldn't disappoint him again. Before Kurt got to move, Sam beat him to it, "why don't you come sit down? Or do you feel more comfortable standing there?" Kurt just looked at Sam like he was an alien fallen from the sky. Kurt shook his head and realized that Sam had asked him something. "Oh, um,-" Kurt tried to speak, but he had to cough and clear his throat before his voice worked again, "I can sit down..." Kurt said, while moving over to the couch and sat himself the furthest away from the psychologist and on the edge of it, as if being ready to run if something dangerous happened. Which he knew wouldn't. Sam just chuckled nicely at Kurt's behavior. Kurt looked down at his hands folded in his lap. He could see Sam pulling some papers, a notepad and a pencil out of his bag. He crossed his legs and laid the notepad in his lap, the pencil in his right hand, and then he looked curiously up at Kurt. "You're dad have told me about some dreams you have at night? Is that correct?" Kurt looked up at the Doctor across from him through his long, delicate eyelashes. He nodded two times. Sam looked down into the notepad and wrote something that Kurt couldn't see from that distance. "What are those dreams about, Kurt?" Kurt looked fully up at Sam. They both didn't say anything for a long while; Sam would give Kurt time to think. Kurt opened his mouth, but closed it again and he looked back down. Sam still looked at Kurt, "it's okay Kurt, take all the time you need. Just as long as you're comfortable. You can make some tea or coffee if that would make you feel better?" Sam said with a smile that Kurt couldn't help but return. "Thank you." Kurt managed to say, but he didn't really want tea or coffee. He just wanted to curl under his duvet on his bed with his scrapbook.

He thought about the question Sam had asked him. He had promised his dad that he would try. And who knows, maybe he _would_ feel better. Sam had been looking down in his notepad – probably doodling – when suddenly he could hear Kurt's small voice, and he looked up at him again. Kurt was almost like a fish without water, but Sam just looked encouraging at Kurt. "It is mostly about... Well, my boyfriend... He – there was an accidedent... About a year ago... On an airplane... The-the airplane – crashed down, and..." Kurt paused to breathe. Sam wrote everything down, and kept looking encouraging at Kurt. "We had an apartment in New York – a home... We were going to get married to fall." Kurt stopped. He tried not to cry, but a tear slipped anyway. He brushed it away with his sleeve before it fell off his face. "When did the accident happen?" Kurt looked up at Sam's calm face. Kurt thought a bit about... Funny, he couldn't _exactly_ remember when it happened. "I think – it's a year ago till December." Kurt told Sam, "you can't remember the date?" Sam then asked. _Why is this suddenly so important!?_ Kurt thought, but he let it be inside his head, Sam didn't deserve to be hacked on, so Kurt just answered 'no'. Sam looked surprised at Kurt's answer, but it was quickly gone, 'cause now he was looking down in his notepad while writing something. He looked up at Kurt again, "what was your boyfriend's name?" Now it was Kurt's turn to look surprised, _haven't my dad told Sam anything?_ Kurt thought, but answered anyway, "Sebastian." And Sam's head was back down in his notepad. Kurt couldn't help but let the question slip, "haven't my dad told you anything?" Sam looked back up at Kurt with big eyes, "Um – no, he wanted you to tell me everything yourself. Kurt nodded at the answer, _huh, makes sense... I guess..._ "Now, do you want to tell me about your dreams and nightmares?" Sam smiled at Kurt while he made himself comfortable in the chair he was sitting in. Kurt nodded and started to tell Sam _everything_.

About the dream he had last night, about someone he was yelling to. And he had a strong feeling that it was Sebastian he had been yelling to. He just didn't understand the things they were calling to each other about. He has also had a nightmare, about a weird looking man, not just because of the Mohawk, but his face was... Not human... And it had been chasing him... He has had that nightmare a few times... What the hell was it!? What does it mean?

After an hour of Kurt telling about his dreams and Sam writing everything down, the front door went up and Burt walked in. He started to grin when he saw Kurt and Doctor Evans seated in the living room, talking. And Kurt actually looked... Comfortable? Kurt looked up at his dad when walked in, and he started to smile. He was so glad to see his dad again, even though it's only been about an hour. Sam also looked up, when Kurt had stopped talking and looked away, to see Mr. Hummel walking inside. "Oh no, don't let me interrupt you, I was just getn' some coffee anyway," Burt told them when Sam was about to stand, but Sam stood anyway and walked over to Burt. Burt looked a little concerned when the psychologist practically came running over to him. Sam said something in Burt's ear that Kurt couldn't hear. Burt's eyes went wide a moment, but remembered that Kurt was in the room; Sam asked Burt if they could talk a moment under four eyes, a little louder so that Kurt could hear it. Burt nodded as answer to Sam's answer and then turned his eyes to Kurt when Sam had walked inside the kitchen. He put on a small smile, "we're just gonna be in the kitchen talking a bit, okay bud?" Kurt just nodded and smiled back. _What's going on? _Kurt couldn't help but think. Burt went into the kitchen and closed the door behind him. Kurt shot up from the couch and ran – silently – over to the door. He laid his ear against the door to listen, but the door was very thick, so almost all he could hear was just muffled voices. There were a few words he could make out when they raised their voices a bit. The last words that were exchanged between Kurt's psychologist and his dad – that he could hear - surprised him... And also kind of scared him, "there's something wrong... I don't know what it is, and I can't explain it. I honestly don't know how this is possible."

**Second chapter done, yay ^^ Sorry it took so long, a lot of stuff going on, but I won't bore you with my life, next up; chapter 3!**


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